


Ease Your Nerves

by incaseyoufic



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Massage kink, Oneshot, PWP, comforting victor, nervous yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 14:45:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14673315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incaseyoufic/pseuds/incaseyoufic
Summary: “Hello,” is the soft reply. A slight tug at his hair has Yuuri pulling back, and brown eyes meet blue. Smiles reflect each other.Yuuri doesn’t think he’ll ever be nervous again.





	Ease Your Nerves

**Author's Note:**

> True to my form, I am uploading my yearly fic, this time for Victuuri, which I haven't published for yet. It seems like my pattern is to write one PWP per fandom lol. Enjoy!

The first time Yuuri and Victor finally have sex, they don’t look at each other in the face even once.

 

It’s a complete accident. Yuuri has no regrets.

 

After months of sensual flirting, both on and off the ice, of mutual pining, of each party not having a _clue_ of how badly the other wanted to take things further, the passion reaches its inevitable climax.

 

It happens after the exhibition skate; their bold declaration of shared love on the ice, a shared dance like none other in history. Both skaters are, understandably, worn out, both physically and mentally.

 

Victor offers to massage Yuuri, only with the promise of reciprocation. And while months ago Yuuri would have stuttered out a “ _n-no you don’t have to_ ”, now there is only a delicious sense of _yes, yes I deserve this_ and the undeniable _desire_ to have Victor’s hands all over him, rubbing and kneading at his most intimate places.

 

Yuuri is immensely appreciative of the privacy of a hotel room to host this sensual occasion.

 

Only one bedside lamp is lit, darkening the room and making it easier to imagine that Yuuri and Victor are the only beings existing in the world. 

 

Yuuri lies face down on the bed, his head propped up in a triangle of plush pillows, the best improvisation of a proper massage table. He had surprised himself, and Viktor, by unabashedly stripping completely of his clothing. There is nothing covering his naked body save for the thin white sheet pulled up to rest just above his waistline. That amount of trust and comfort is not lost on Victor, and his heart swells at it.

 

Yuuri can hear the soft sounds of the man behind him, opening up a bottle of massage oil Yuuri’s face burns hot as he buries it into the pillows in front of him, his mind full of memories of private moments in his bedroom, using similar lube to tease open his most private place, fingering himself to thoughts of how much better Victor’s long fingers could penetrate him. He just barely resists the urge to grind his already hardening dick into the mattress. _He hasn’t even touched me yet._

 

He hears the almost obscene squelching sound of oil being rubbed between two hands and barely contains a groan. _Soon those hands will be on me._

 

“Where would you like me to start?” Victor’s low murmur is like a kiss to Yuuri’s ears, and a soothing balm on his slowly rising nerves.

 

Yuuri clears the wet gravel of his throat. “My – my lower back, please,” he murmurs back, voice slightly muffled by the pillows. It is a testament to how relaxed Yuuri is that he did not request his upper back, where the knots and tangles were the worst, but… Yuuri _wants_ Victor to _touch_ him. His heart beats in his throat not from nerves, like maybe it would have even weeks ago, but from _anticipation._ He feels as if they were standing precariously on the precipice of _something_ , pushed to the edge from all their shared touches, their shared dances, the _kiss_ on the ice, Yuuri’s public declarations of love, and Victor’s dazzling smiles. This was the final nudge.

 

Yuuri cannot hide the gasp of pleasure when he feels Victor’s warm oiled hands finally begin to rub into his lower back.

 

“I want to massage you everywhere,” Victor whispers, voice earnest and not hiding any desire whatsoever.

 

“Okay,” Yuuri replies softly, biting his lip. He would not complain. He doesn’t bother quieting his gentle moans as he feels those warm, large hands, cascade around his skin, slick with oil, rubbing and kneading his tired muscles. “Oh my god that feels so _good_ ,” he moans into the pillows. His fingers clench at the sheets, pulling tension into the fabric. 

 

Victor chuckles low in his throat. “Maybe when I retire from skating I shall become a masseuse,” he teases. He moves his hands up to Yuuri’s neck, rubbing at the knots and stiffness in the trapezius.

 

Yuuri’s eyebrows crinkle as he imagines Victor massaging anyone else but him. “A private masseuse,” he corrects firmly.

 

Victor chuckles in response and squeezes Yuuri’s neck lovingly. “Of course.”

 

For a while the only sounds are their deep breathing, almost in sync with each other, and the soft glide of Victor’s hands against slick skin. The odd pleasured groan deepens Yuuri’s breathing, louder if Victor finds a particularly sore spot.

 

Within a few minutes the hands drift lower, finally reaching Yuuri’s lower back, where he’d truly wanted Victor to start. Impatient as he was for those warm hands to move _lower_ , he was genuinely enjoying the massage thus far.

 

“Yes, you are very tight here,” Victor mumbles with a touch of concern, pressing his hands harder against the knots he finds.

 

Yuuri swallows thickly, heart beating in his throat. Those hot hands are so close to his ass. If he were to flip over, Victor’s hands would instead be near his semi-hard dick. It is taking all of his concentration to not buck into the mattress, probably making him more tense, and Victor will probably notice –

 

“Yuuri, I need you to relax more,” Victor murmurs, not missing anything. His hands drift down further, now resting on the thin bedsheet. The soft pull of the cloth is only making Yuuri tense up _more_ , and Victor _knows_ it, _has to_ , but his fingers pull down the covering anyways, revealing the soft roundness of Yuuri’s ass. Yuuri shivers, not from the increased exposure, but from a quiver of nerves in his chest.

 

Yuuri swallows and inhales deeply, trying to calm his heart, not from – not from anxiety exactly, but – and then the loudest groan yet is torn from his throat as Viktor’s hands land on each globe, and they both sigh with what seems like relief. They teeter over the precipice of temptation even more, almost, _almost-_

Hands clench sheets _hard_ as Victor begins massaging Yuuri’s backside. Instantly the mood shifts; Yuuri’s heart beat along with it, from cautiously excited to pumping hard, sending blood down south to his rapidly engorging cock. He can feel it throbbing and hardening between himself and the mattress. He can’t help but buck backwards up into the strong hands moulding to his ass.

 

“Unn – V-Victor,” Yuuri moans, restless hips twitching and grinding as he feels Viktor’s warm finger explore his crack. He gasps, breath hitching in his throat when he feels a finger briefly side in between his cheeks.

 

“So beautiful,” the other man whispers back, voice rough. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

 

Yuuri feels his face heat up at the praise. Behind him he hears Victor groan in an echo of his own sounds. Yuuri raises up into a cobra pose, and Victor groans in appreciation of the resulting bunching of his muscles, the lower back folding to further accentuate Yuuri’s voluptuous ass.

 

_This is no longer about the massage._

 

Yuuri bites his lip, hips moving restlessly, legs spreading, both seeking friction for his aching cock against the sheets, and for Victor’s teasing fingers playing at the crack of his ass.

 

“P-please,” Yuuri chokes out. He has no idea what he is asking for, at this point; he just wants Victor to keep going - needs those strong hands to continue their intimate exploration.

 

He feels Victor move behind him, perhaps to sit more fully on the bed, straddling Yuuri’s legs, more stable.

 

“Please… what?” Victor teases, fingers ghosting infuriatingly lightly across the cleft. He holds his breath for Yuuri’s response, hardly daring to believe that _this is finally happening_ –

 

Yuuri keeps his face hidden from view, not daring to break the spell – the miracle – of the sexual energy befalling them – feels that, maybe someday soon he could look Victor directly in the face while asking for sex – but that maybe today – right now – he feels a certain level of protection for his own tumulus confidence in looking away.

 

“Your fingers,” Yuuri cuts himself off, swallowing his nerves down. “Use your fingers…”

 

“But I already am, Yuuri,” Victor teases again, his voice low and gravelly. Viktor wants – _needs_ – to hear Yuuri _say_ what he _knows_ he’s trying to say.

 

There’s a beat of strained silence – Victor is worried that he’s maybe pushed a bit too far – and Yuuri’s neck bends forward, as if he’s giving up – Viktor holds his breath - but then –

 

“ _Fuck me_.”

 

Those two words are _almost_ lost in the husky whisper that is Yuuri’s voice. He swallows any embarrassment he is feeling, his desire for Viktor to penetrate him overwhelming anything else. He already knows that Viktor’s fingers will feel _so much better_ than Yuuri’s own.

 

Viktor’s brain might have stopped working then, because all the blood immediately rushed down to swell his cock. He took a shaky breath, allowing himself a second of disbelief that those words had finally come out of his precious Yuuri’s mouth. _Eros indeed._

 

His fingers are already covered in oil from the massage, his long index finger slipping into Yuuri almost too easily. They both gasp at the sensation, Yuuri’s fists clenching hard at the sheets, a choked moan ripping from his throat as he arches into the sensation, Viktor moaning and pressing in harder in response.

 

“So open for me,” Viktor moans. His oil-slick finger thrusts in and out of Yuuri, exploring his most intimate center, until the younger man begs for a second one to be added.

 

“More, more please, _please,_ fuck –“ He gasps again when he feels not one but _two_ more fingers added – three of Viktor’s strong digits opening him up faster and beyond anything he’s ever achieved himself. Coherent words were now beyond him – his mouth too busy with shamelessly moaning as he fucks himself backwards on Viktor’s fingers. The wet squelching of lubed fingers sliding in and out of his asshole should be disgusting – instead it just fans the flames of heat coiling in Yuuri’s gut.

 

“Y-Yuuri, can – can I – are you ready for –“

 

“Yesssss,” Yuuri hisses. He wants Viktor’s cock – wants _everything_ – he groans at himself, at how shamelessly horny he suddenly is.  This is better than _any_ fantasy Yuuri has ever imagined.

 

They both gasp as the head of Viktor’s cock – _it’s so hot it almost burns_ \- nudges at Yuuri’s flushed and glistening entrance. Yuuri feels his body want to tense up – his heart skipping a beat, his teeth chewing at his lip – _what if this doesn’t work, what if –_

 

But Viktor has, miraculously, prepared Yuuri’s body well – _he has done this before_ , Yuuri thinks distantly – and the swollen head of Viktor’s cock is forced past the bottle-neck of Yuuri’s asshole. Behind him Yuuri hears Viktor moan deep in his throat. Yuur’s eyes squeeze shut as he chokes out a gasp, trying to keep his breath steady, trying to stave off the intense pain at being breached so intimately.

 

“Y-Yuuri, _moya lyubov_ , are you – ah – are you okay?” Viktor forces himself to still, to give the other man a chance to catch his breath.

 

“Just, um, gimme a sec,” Yuuri pants back.

 

Truthfully his gut wars between pain and pleasure – the burning stretch of his tightest place trying to accommodate Viktor’s impressive girth, combined with the knowledge and sensation that _Viktor Nikiforov_ is _inside him_ , is kind of – overloading him. He inhales deeply, exhales slowly, then does it again, and his body calms down slightly. He lets himself _feel_ – he feels his own throbbing hardness at his groin, lying swollen and heavy against the silk bedsheets, feels his heart hammering in his chest, almost beating into his throat, feels his flushed and heated body breaking out in a light sweat, and above all, feels the intense burn of Viktor’s cock sitting halfway inside him.

 

It’s…

 

_Incredible._

 

Yuuri moves his hips cautiously backwards into Viktor, signalling that he’s ready for more. He feels Viktor trembling behind him, feels those warm hands squeeze his hips, welcoming the permission to continue.

 

Yuuri swallows, his throat dry from moaning and panting, as their pace increases.

 

“Can you – go up onto your knees for me?” Victor pants, lightly tugging at Yuuri’s hips.

 

Yuuri bends his arms at ninety degrees, resting his weight on his forearms, before doing as Victor’ asked. He almost laments at the loss of friction for his throbbing erection; it’s actually a good thing – he is already dangerously close to spilling.

 

“Yes, oh _fuck_ , oh, you look so _erotic_ like this,” Victor says almost in a daze. They both cry out in shared pleasure as Victor pumps his cock in and out of Yuuri, his pace doubling, the urge to _dominate_ the younger man taking him by surprise. All he sees is the back of Yuuri’s head, can almost see his flushed cheeks, watches as his trembling fingers clench at the sheets. “So – so good, Yuuri, ah –“

 

“Y-yeah – ah!” Yuuri gives a particularly loud moan, and Victor _knows_ why. Knowing he’s hit that pleasure button inside Yuuri, his pace increases almost brutally. His balls slap at the tops of Yuuri’s thighs, his hands clench so hard on Yuuri’s hips that he surely will leave finger-shaped bruises, and the bed is smacking into the wall – he doesn’t care – needs to – to –

 

“Y-Yuuri, I’m – _fuck_ – _Ya sobirayus priyti –_ Ah!”

 

Through panted breaths Viktor swears rapidly in Russian – Yuuri can’t understand the exact words but somehow feels the same way – as he fucks into Yuuri over and over. Yuuri begins to feel embarrassed about the noise level – they’re both being far too loud, and then the bed is repeatedly slamming against the wall – maybe if they –

 

“The bed,” Yuuri bites out. “So loud –“

 

“Yessss, everyone will hear me fucking you,” Viktor moans. He bends over, chest pressed flush to Yuuri’s back, lips sliding against sweat-slick skin. His hands roam freely, massaging and caressing.

 

“Oh – oh _God_ I’m – so c-close,” Yuuri stutters. He’d wanted to last longer – wanted to post-pone the awkwardness that would surely follow this encounter – _maybe it’ll be okay –_ but the hot, piercing feeling in his gut is tightening, almost burning now with the need for release.

 

He feels the hot breath of Viktor’s words against his ear and loses it.

 

“Come for me,”

 

Yuuri’s mouth opens in a silent cry as his hips twitch and buck erratically, thick cum erupting from his dick into thick streams onto the sheets below. Almost immediately after, in his orgasm-induced daze, he feels something hot fill his ass – that might be the weirdest sensation he’s ever experienced – and groans, realizing that they’d come nearly at the same time.

 

Viktor collapses onto Yuuri, then rolls off to the side, giving Yuuri room to breathe.

 

For a few moments they both focus on regaining normal breathing patterns. Eventually, Yuuri looks to the side, eyes bleary, unfocused without his glasses. He finds Viktor’s piercing blues already set on him, and feels his already flushed cheeks heat up, his eyes grow a little wider. He swallows, his mouth dry, and sees Viktor’s eyes follow the path of his adam’s apple, then dart back up to Yuuri.

 

Viktor gives Yuuri the softest smile, effectively shutting off any rampaging anxious thoughts storming around his brain. His lips twitch up into an answering smile, relief making his next exhale a laugh.

 

Saying nothing, Viktor raises the arm not resting on the bed in a bow, making room for Yuuri to snuggle against his cherry-flushed chest. Yuuri hastens to fill the space he’s been given, curling into Viktor’s chest, his face buried in his neck. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, Viktor’s musky scent filling his nose. He hums, content, as Viktor’s arms wrap around him.

 

“Hi,” Yuuri murmurs softly against Viktor’s neck.

He feels the deep answering rumble of a laugh in Viktor’s chest, moving against his own. The arms around him squeeze a little tighter, warm fingers reaching up to thread into slightly damp black locks.

 

“Hello,” is the soft reply. A slight tug at his hair has Yuuri pulling back, and brown eyes meet blue. Smiles reflect each other.

 

Yuuri doesn’t think he’ll ever be nervous again.

 


End file.
